


Runaways

by Gelid_illuminant



Series: Runaways [1]
Category: Good Omens, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Death, Doctor Who AU, Drunkenness, M/M, Regeneration, TARDIS - Freeform, Time Lords, Time Lords AU, death sort of, doctor who - Freeform, ineffable husbands, kidnap, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22043308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelid_illuminant/pseuds/Gelid_illuminant
Summary: Crowley is a renegade Time Lord, he has to make a run for it. But he doesn't want to be alone.
Relationships: Aziraphale and Crowley, Crowley/Aziraphale
Series: Runaways [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586692
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. The Kidnap

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one of a ridiculous story

Crowley knew that the council was after him, but they needed a little more proof of his activities on Earth. They were just waiting for a warrant to search his TARDIS travel log (that would take awhile). Crowley had tried again and again to delete his history, but it was in vain. The security measures wouldn't allow it. All he could do was wait to be arrested. Or...maybe there was another way...

But he couldn't do it alone. He'd have to persuade someone to come with him. The obvious choice was Aziraphale, his favorite drinking companion. Maybe they were even friends, Crowley wasn't sure. They had been such enemies in the Academy. Different houses, different ideals. Aziraphale was so content with the Time Lord establishment, whereas Crowley wanted nothing more than to rebel in any way he could. Not violently, of course, just in nice ways.

He'd never go for it, though. Aziraphale was happy here. He had standing, as the head librarian of the Academy. He cared about his books, he cared about the students too much to just...run away. But if anyone could convince a man like that to leave everything behind, it was Crowley. Sometimes known as The Tempter, sometimes as the Charmer - both titles that Crowley was rather fond of. Did he really want to spend the next...what could be thousands of years, with a stuffy librarian? Well, maybe Crowley could bring out a darker, more interesting side in Aziraphale. The man could surely drink, at least.

Crowley left his TARDIS where it was parked - in its simple, sleek black form he always kept it in when on Gallifrey. He prefered it to look like a Bentley from the early 20th Century - an Earth vehicle. If he dared keep his TARDIS in THAT form on Gallifrey, he'd be in dire straights. He stroked the smooth door lovingly; it was cool to the touch. Finally he turned and headed for the nearest Transmat machine, to take him to the Academy library. He entered the address, pressed the big red button and felt the tickling of the Transmat working at his atoms.

The Academy library was grand, to say the least. Shelves two storeys high, filled from end-to-end with great heavy tomes, written in High Gallifreyan. From the ceiling hung enourmous chandeliers made from spun starlight, sending glittering shards of light over the walls and floor. The high windows were covered with stained glass pictures depicting half-forgotten legends of the early times when Time Lords were great. 

Aziraphale's desk stood beside the grand entrance, a tiny wooden shape amidst a sea of monumental shelves. He sat in his chair, reading a book, glasses perched on the end of his nose and hot drink at his elbow. Clearly, he was completely engrossed in the book, because he didn't notice Crowley saunter up to the desk. He waited a moment, then cleared his throat. Aziraphale still didn't look up. Crowley rang the little bell several times. Finally, Aziraphale gave in. "What do you want, Crowley?"

"I thought you might fancy a spot of dinner?" Crowley said as he casually fiddled with the name plate on the desk. Aziraphale took it from him and set it back down. "I'll get my coat. Where shall we dine?"  
"That funny little place behind the museum?" It's quiet there, Crowley thought. Aziraphale smiled primly as he pulled on his light beige coat. "Sounds delightful, my dear." As they set off, Crowley wondered vaugely why he felt so strange every time Aziraphale called him that. It was just the little man's nature, he did that for everyone. But never-the-less, it made Crowley's stomach go all wibbley.

There were only a few people in the resturaunt when they arrived, which was perfect for Crowley's needs. They settled into a booth in the corner. It had a small vase of flowers on the table between them. The waiter bustled over, saw who it was and bustled off again to get their usual orders. "So," began Aziraphale. "What's on your mind, my good fellow?" Crowley couldn't help a wicked smile as he contemplated his plan. "Oh, nothing in particular. It's just I owe you one, Aziraphale."

Two and a half bottles of wine later, and Crowley was ready to broach his idea to Aziraphale. "So, the reason I asked you here..."  
"I KNEW you had alte-alteree...bad motives!"  
"Of course you did. Anyway, the reason I asked you here was to ask you when you might have a bit of leave. See, I've got a little holiday planned to Mount Cadon and I thought you might like to come along." Crowley played with his empty glass as he spoke. Aziraphale looked slightly worried, in a drunken sort of way. "Would I have to go sshkiing?"  
"Not if you didn't want to."  
"I'll come, then."

Crowley hadn't expected it to be so easy, but the man was a pushover when he was drunk. He'd certainly need to be reminded of their agreement later on. For the rest of the night they chatted about what they might do on the mountain ("anything but sshkiing!"), and how long they could stay there. Crowley had even brought some brochures he'd found in the library. As the night wore on, each man grew increasingly drunk, unconcerned about the repercussions the next day.

Aziraphale woke up with a splitting headache and several messages from Crowley on his psychic paper, reminding him that he'd agreed to go on holiday with him. Aziraphale reasoned that he must have been drunk to have done something like that (not to mention the hangover symptoms). Well, it was too late now. His Moral Code dictated that he must keep his promises, and so, he would have to go to Mount bloody Cadon with Crowley.

It wasn't that Aziraphale DISLIKED Crowley, it was just that the man made him feel uncomfortable. When they'd go to dine together, Aziraphale would find himself determined not to look at Crowley, but inadvertantly staring at him regardless. And it was hard to forget their time at school. Both of them had grown since then, and both of them had changed their faces, but some of the memories still haunted Aziraphale. Like when Crowley had beaten him to the top spot in the class and acted like he'd not even studied. Although, now that he thought of it, it didn't seem that bad, really.

A few days later, Aziraphale had his leave, he had packed up what he needed (including several books), and was fully prepared for their holiday. Except emotionally. Could he REALLY spend all that time alone with Crowley? And why was it such a disquieting thought? Why couldn't he imagine them getting along, even though they had done for centuries now? DID he dislike Crowley? Or was it something different? Aziraphale decided to focus on getting through the week on Mount Cadon. At least he'd be able to see the Academy from the ski lodge they'd be staying at.

Crowley met Aziraphale outside his little apartment near the centre of town. He had parked his TARDIS right outside the door. Aziraphale greeted him with a smile. As Crowley helped Aziraphale carry his luggage into the TARDIS, Aziraphale noticed that Crowley's tight black suit matched the exterior of his TARDIS nicely. He'd never really noticed Crowley's clothes before. But they suited him well. As did his spiky hair, which, Aziraphale noted, was the colour of the Gallifreyan night sky. Burnt orange, shining like the suns.

The interior of Crowley's TARDIS was no different. Sleek, simple, black and grey and white. The console was a simple affair, designed to be piloted by just one. One of these modern TARDISes that Aziraphale couldn't even begin to understand. He could appreciate the design, though he felt it needed a cozy armchair or two. Crowley diligently took most of the luggage to a room just off the main corridor, with Aziraphale following closely. 

He GASPED when he saw it. Crowley had set it up perfectly to Aziraphale's liking. The bed was huge and soft, and covered in pillows and tartan rugs. There was a couch; plump, draped with a throw rug. Beside the couch was a little table laden with decanters, all full of brown and red liquids that made Aziraphale's mouth water just to look at them. There was a closet, standing empty, ready to take Aziraphale's selection of pale suits. And a bookshelf, already full of old books.

"Oh, Crowley, my dear. What a lovely room! Why ever would you do such a nice thing for me? We're only traveling a short distance."  
"I thought, hey, you may as well be comfortable." Crowley smiled broadly. That smile that probably crinkled his eyes, though it couldn't be known due to his perpetual glasses. Aziraphale stood there, simply stunned, for a moment or two more, then he grinned at Crowley and shook his hand warmly. "We may have to go traveling together more often!"

Crowley had to hide his sudden wrench of guilt behind a smile. He would be essentially kidnapping this man, this man who now seemed so eager to spend time together. But it had to be done. And Aziraphale would probably enjoy it, in the end. Crowley withdrew his hand, a little regretfully. "You settle in, and I'll get us moving, shall I?" He hurried away to the console room, his smile twisting into a grimace as he passed out of view.

The console lit up beneath his hands, and they were away. Crowley entered the coordinates for London, Earth, early Twenty-First Century. He waited for Aziraphale to rush out, demanding to know why the journey was taking so long. But they landed without incident. Crowley tapped into the Chameleon Circut and set the TARDIS to his prefered shape, then pulled the lever that opened the doors. He stepped out onto the street, so much dirtier than the streets of the Citadel. 

He took a deep breath, taking note off all the different things he could smell. Car fumes, cigarette smoke, stale beer. Human things. All those delicious human things. Then he ducked back into the TARDIS to find Aziraphale. He was just entering the console room, a small glass of brown liquid in one hand. "It's been a long time since I've taken a TARDIS trip, but that seemed to go on a bit long?"  
"Yes, well, that's because..."  
"Crowley...where ARE we?"

"...We're on Earth, Aziraphale." Crowley said blankly. Aziraphale stared at him, astonished. "Earth? As in the planet, Earth?"  
"That's right."   
Aziraphale crossed the room and threw his drink in Crowley's face. "WHY have you brought me the EARTH!? It's illegal! You've made me a criminal!" Crowley took a clean handkerchief from his sleeve and mopped his face. "Technically this is a kidnapping."  
"That doesn't make it better!"

Crowley sighed, and put away the handkercheif. "I'M a criminal, Aziraphale. I'm on the run and couldn't face going alone..." Now the man looked concerned. "Why ever not? Why did you have to drag me into this?"  
"I don't...want to be alone. It's not natural." Crowley looked down at his shoes, studying the laces, rather than see the conflict in Aziraphale's eyes. "Why are you running away, Crowley?" Aziraphale placed his hand gently on Crowley's arm.

"Because I've been visiting other planets. I've been interacting with other species. I can't help it, I just can't stand being stuck on Gallifrey! I...I know you won't understand, but..."  
"I CAN understand, actually. I know how you feel." Aziraphale said, almost in a whisper. As if someone from the council might be listening. Crowley looked up at him in shock. "YOU? You, of all people, want to leave Gallifrey?" He asked incredulously. Aziraphale nodded seriously. "I want to see the places I've read about..."

Crowley couldn't help but grin. This man, who sat in his ancient library, who dressed in traditional Time Lord attire, who loved the Academy, HE wanted to explore the universe. "Well, in that case, allow me to show you around!"  
"But...I'll get into trouble...!" The look of terror on Aziraphale's face just made Crowley more excited. His grin broadened. "When you get home, you can just tell them that your were kidnapped!" Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "I WAS kidnapped! And HOW am I meant to get home?"

The excited energy drained from Crowley's body, leaving him feeling empty and cold. "I hadn't thought of that. All I thought about was getting here, with you. And since we're here...we may as well stay awhile." He tried weakly. Aziraphale took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He turned away and began to pace. "Well...I HAVE always wanted to see Earth, in particular. I suppose...it can't hurt to take a look around. But-" He turned to Crowley and pointed a commanding finger. "You MUST take me home afterwards. I will not be your hostage!


	2. Our Little Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale finds himself enjoying his time on Earth

"First things first, we need to get you some clothes," Crowley said with a grin. He was inexplicably keen to see Aziraphale in human clothing. Aziraphle, however, seemed disappointed. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"  
"You'll stick out like a Time Lord in a sea of lowly humans."  
"Oh."  
"None of my clothes will fit you, so we'll have to go shopping." Crowley said with another grin. He knew how Aziraphale felt about shopping.

They soon found a pokey little tailor's shop with a sign out the front that claimed maximum effeciency. Aziraphale, to Crowley's immense amusement - got a little flustered by having his measurments taken. Then came an hour and a half of Aziraphale selecting exactly which materials and patterns he wanted. Finally, they were told to come back in four hours, and they returned to the TARDIS. On the way, Crowley stopped by the bottle shop to purchase some human alcohol.

"This," Crowley said, opening the bottle with a flourish. "Is wine. A Château Lafite, in fact. May I tempt you to a glass or two?" He poured two glasses without waiting for an answer. "Certainly, my dear, certainly!" Aziraphale took the glass eagerly, their fingers briefly touching. He sniffed at the wine, swirled it delicately and took a sip. A soft moan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. "Divine, Crowley, absolutely divine."

"So, what would you like to do on Earth, Aziraphale?" Crowley asked innocently. The other Time Lord took a moment to consider this, then replied, "I would like to examine one of their museums, and learn about Earth history. And perhaps go to a library, an-"  
"Oh no, no, no! We've got to do something FUN!" Crowley exclaimed. Aziraphale frowned. "Those things ARE fun!"  
"I'm talking about REAL fun, things like...driving a car. Or going on a rollercoaster, or climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge!"

"How about a cruise on that big river...what is it called again, the Thames? I'd be happy to do that." Aziraphale said, then drained his glass and held it out to be refilled. Crowley obliged, saying, "I suppose that would be okay. But I swear to Omega, one day I'll get you behind the wheel of a car."  
"Wouldn't getting under the wheels be terribly dangerous?"

They passed the next few hours like this, until finally the suit was ready to be picked up. Aziraphale went to the dressing room while Crowley paid, taking the money out of the human money he had carefully been cultivating for a few decades now. Aziraphale emerged, and Crowley couldn't help laughing. The ensemble was pale, hideously old-fashioned, and very appropriate for a Time Lord like Aziraphale. He seemed very pleased with it, however, and spent a moment appreciating himself in the long mirror against the wall.

Their next stop was to buy shoes, and Crowley delighted in the squirmy embarrassment Aziraphale displayed when exposing his feet in public. Then it was time for dinner, and they dropped into the Ritz. It was nothing compared to the Academy Library, but Aziraphale still seemed impressed by the decor. Over dinner they chatted about Earth, Aziraphale listing all the things he knew about its history, Crowley mentioning the most enjoyable passtimes.

By the time the dessert came (fruit salad for Crowley, crepes for Aziraphale), they had both become rather tipsy. Aziraphale was just describing a major Earth religion when Crowley found himself losing focus. He was listening to Aziraphale speak, but not really hearing him. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the food, or maybe it was the heady feeling of finally being free of Gallifrey. But there it was, regardles of the cause. He could feel his own heart beating, hear his own breathing as he watched the other man gesturing to emphasise a point.

What was this? This feeling? Was he ill? No, it was worse than food poisoning. Crowley felt his face burn when Aziraphale smiled at him and said, "You know, I think I like being on Earth with you, Crowley. I do have to go home, of course, but for now, I'm going to let muyself enjoy this little holiday." Crowley smiled back and tapped his glass against Aziraphale's. "To our holiday, and may the Council never catch me!"  
"To our holiday, and may the Council never catch you!"

The bed really was soft, Aziraphale thought as he settled in for the night. As a Time Lord, he didn't really need to sleep, but after such a trying day it seemed like a good idea. Besides, Crowley had gone to such trouble to provide the bed for him, so he may as well use it. He clicked his fingers and the lights went out, plunging him into comforting darkness. The only light was that coming in under the door from the console room. He wriggled around a bit to get more comfortable.

Was Crowley asleep? He had seemed terribly tired after their little outing, and he'd gone into what seemed to be another bedroom. Aziraphale imagined Crowley in bed. Would his pyjamas be black? Yes, of course. But would they be shiny, silky material, or soft and cozy like the clothing Aziraphale prefered? Would he spread out, limbs akimbo, or would he curl up like one of those...what were they called, puppies? Would he hold onto his pillow, seeking comfort from the darkness of the night?

Why did he care, suddenly, how Crowley slept? They were barely even friends. Aziraphale felt uneasy around Crowley, always felt that he was planning something sinister. Well, he had been, hadn't he? But why was Aziraphale so willing to go along with it? He wanted to go home, be safe, be in his own apartment in the Citadel. But did he, really? He was truly enjoying spending time on Earth, with Crowley. Was it just the Earth, which he'd always wanted to see, or was it Crowley, who was making him feel...at home already.

Finally, Aziraphale drifted into sleep. He dreamt about cars.

Crowley was up all night worrying. Worrying about how to get Aziraphale home without being caught himself. Worrying about his strange experience at the Ritz. Had he been in some kind of time slip? A cosmic distortion? Had his past life been intruding on his mind somehow? Stranger things happened on Earth. Maybe that was why things were different between him and Aziraphale now. Both of them had changed their faces, once in Crowley's case. He assumed the same of Aziraphale. 

Crowley had died on Earth. That first time he had come, he'd not understood road safety. He'd been hit by a lorry coming around the corner. A less than spectacular death, by and means. Now he had this lanky, red-haired body. And something had gone wrong in the regeneration process. His eyes hadn't come out right. That was why he always wore glasses now. He wondered if Aziraphale had noticed.

As for how Aziraphale had been caused to regenerate, Crowley didn't know. It must have happened on Gallifrey. Crowley didn't think that Aziraphale had ever left the planet before. Maybe a Transmat accident? He just didn't know. But he could sense it, if he concentrated, that Aziraphale was on his second body. The thought was disquieting, somehow. Crowley usually didn't care even when he met someone on their final life, but the thought of Aziraphale going through that...

The console chimed to indicate that it was morning on Earth. Half past seven, in fact. Crowley quickly looked on his human laptop for good places to have breakfast, and found a café that Aziraphale would probably call 'charming'. Aziraphale came out of his room, looking refreshed, dressed in his new suit. "What's on the syllabus for today, my dear?" He asked with a yawn. Crowley held up his laptop to show him pictures of the café. "Breakfast, then a walk in St. James Park. It's great this time of year, and they sell something called ICE CREAM."

All in all, Aziraphale enjoyed his holiday on Earth a great deal. He'd be sad when it was over, but he had important work to do. The students in the Academy relied on him to find the books they needed. There were sub-librarians of course, but they never had the breadth of knowledge on the library that Aziraphale had. And he couldn't just leave behind his whole life, to be here on Earth with Crowley. What if they got caught? What if the whole Time Lord establishment came crashing down on them? What would happen then? Prison? Excecution? Banishment? Surely it wouldn't come to that!

But all the same, Aziraphale found a dread in his cheat whenever he thought of leaving all this behind. He loved going for walks in the park, he loved the funny little resturaunts, he loved the theater and he loved Cro-  
He loved Earth, and its inhabitants. The children who were actually allowed to play in the park. The elderly couples walking along the street, hand-in-hand. Those charming people in the middle, hurrying about their business like their life would end if they didn't get to this specific place and this specific time. Humans were just so damn interesting.

He and Crowley had settled into a routine here on Earth. They would have breakfast, go for a walk, explore London. Maybe pop over to Italy for lunch, and home in time for tea. Home, in time for tea. And of course, the drink was just marvelous. Tea, cocoa, wine, whiskey, gin and tonic. The food was to die for as well. Strange little morsels, or great heaping servings, all of it was a delight. Aziraphale was worried that he might be putting on weight.

But it would be ending in just another day. And he would never see Crowley again. THAT was a frightening thought. Aziraphale gripped his glass tighter. Right now, they were at the Ritz, having dinner. Crowley was embarking upon a tiny platter of glazed vegetables and didn't notice the expression on Aziraphale's face change from jolly to morbid in a flash. Over this last week, they seemed to have grown so close. It was never like this before. They'd talk and laugh, sure, but never with so much enthusiasm as now.

Aziraphale watched Crowley out of the corner of his eye. He was clearly trying to look debonair. It was a quality in him that Aziraphale found awkwardly charming. It was so good just to sit here in silence, in each other's presence. Aziraphale cleared his throat, and Crowley looked up. "So...I go home tomorrow."  
"Yeah,"  
"And you stay here, or go traveling the universe..."  
"That's right."  
They fell back into silence.

The TARDIS console whirrred as they transported back to Gallifrey. Crowley had chosen a spot a few miles outside the Citadel, just to be on the safe side. And the walk would do Aziraphale some good. The whirring stopped. Aziraphale came out of his room, once more donning his traditional Time Lord apparel. He now seemed to look faintly ridiculous to Crowley, who had grown used to his Earth clothes. He pushed the feeling away and focused on the matter at hand. 

"Well, goodbye then," He said casually. Aziraphale nodded sadly. Why was Crowley being so dismissive? These would be their last moments together! "Will I...see you again?" He asked shyly, fidgeting with his fingers. Crowley didn't even look at him. "You won't."  
"Then...goodbye, I suppose. And good luck, my dear."  
"Yeah, thanks." Crowley pulled the lever and the door opened onto a field of red grass. Aziraphale picked up his bags, and stepped out. He watched as the door closed, and the TARDIS faded from sight, going who-knew-where, who-knew-when.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a hurry so be gentle please


	3. Back to Gallifrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley returns home to see Aziraphale

Twelve years passed by. Crowley sometimes wondered if the Council would come to find him, but they never did. One morning, when he was on a planet somewhere in Andromeda, he checked his scanner for updates on Gallifrey. He did this occasionally, not out of any longing for home. It was just in case one of his friends was mentioned in the news. One update caught his eye, because his own name was in it. "The Time Lord Crowley, sometimes called the Tempter, has been officially banished from Gallifrey."

Crowley didn't feel anything. He just felt blank. No more going home. It wasn't really home, though, was it? The TARDIS was his home now. It was his little slice of reality and it was all his, no one else. No one else at all. Oh, he had friends, many friends, on various worlds. But no one was allowed into his TARDIS. He liked humans in particular - infuriating, ridiculous, temptable humans. He loved playing with humans' minds, loved screwing with their strange little world. But none of them had ever set foot in HIS world.

Fifty-one more years passed. Sixty-three years since he left ho- no, Gallifrey. Sixty-three years since he'd seen that little man in the bowtie. Heard his frustratingly formal voice. Felt him accidentally bump against his arm as they walked side-by-side through the park. He hadn't bothered to delete the room he had made for Aziraphale, so each morning, he had to walk past it on his way to the console room. Each morning, he was reminded of his old friend. Yes, friend. He had finally admitted that. Best friend. 

Why hadn't he deleted the room? Why not? Maybe, it would be admitting that he would never see Aziraphale again. Maybe it would be like killing the memories they had made together, during that oh-so-short time together on Earth. Maybe that was the real reason why Crowley kept returning to the little planet. A weak attempt to relive those altogether too brief moments, a human lifetime ago. Buying the suit, feeding ducks, that memorable occassion when Aziraphale had wanted a haircut. Just sitting, and talking, or sitting in silence as they dined.

One day during that sixty-third year, Crowley checked his scanner for Gallifreyan new stories. He knew now why he was doing it, and had to be honest with himself. He was checking for new on Azira-  
THE ACADEMY BURNS.  
Arsonists have set fire to the esteemed Time Lord Academy. Buildings affected include the Dining Hall, The Eastern Dormitories and The Library. A list of the regenerated follows.

Crowley felt sick when he saw the list. The third name down is HIS name. Aziraphale has. Regenerated. Again. And the thought of that burned like an arsonist's fire in Crowley's mind. Throughout his whole body. His best friend was essentially dead. That version of him, the one that connected with Crowley, was gone forever. He was dead and nothing would bring him back. His voice, his Earthly bowtie, his soft, manicured hands that Crowley so longed to touch...

The TARDIS console whirred as he lands, just outside the Citadel. Maybe they wouldn't notice if he put the TARDIS in Stealth Mode. Maybe. Crowley pulled on his blazer and flipped the lever to open the door. He ran out, and ran to the Citadel. He ran through the streets to the Academy. It was in ruins, still smouldering. Wait. Why would Aziraphale even be HERE? Where would he be right now? His apartment? That little bakery by the park? Yes, it's lunchtime, he'd be at the bakery.

Crowley forced himself to walk calmly, because people are starting to stare. He should have disgusised himself, but the idea of meeting Aziraphale again after so long, while not being himself, was just too much to deal with. He wanted to be real, he had to be honest, say what he truly feels. Say what he felt when he read that article. He felt like a red-hot wire cage was constricting his lungs. Like an Ice Warrior had punched him in the gut. Like the universe had fallen away, leaving him stranded in the Void Between Worlds, like a rotting plank of wood on a vast, broiling ocean.

The bakery was the same as ever. The whole city was the same. There were people spread out around the bakery, spilling over onto the riverbank. This bakery must have increased in popularity. Would Aziraphale still come here if the place was popular? Yes, Crowley thought, he would. It was always the food that mattered to him. But was he even here? Crowley wound his way through the crowd, not daring to call out and draw attention to himself. Finally, he felt a familiar energy. It was him. It was Aziraphale, right there in front of him.

He hadn't really changed much, after all. His hair was a different colour - whiter than the snow on the peak of Mount Cadon. His clothes were the same - Time Lord clothes. He was still part of the establishment, then. And his habits were the same. He was eagerly taking a large, powdered bun from a paper bag and sniffing it before taking a bite. The powdered sugar got up his nose and he sneezed. "Aziraphale..."  
"Hmm?" He looked up, searching for the voice. Crowley reached out, took his hand, still manicured. "Come with me, Aziraphale."

Crowley lead Aziraphale through the crowd, down into a relatively quiet street. "Crowley? Is that really you? What are you doing here, you've been BANISHE-"  
"I came to see you, Aziraphale." Crowley said without looking back. He tightened his grip on Aziraphale's hand. Aziraphale hurried to catch up, and walk beside him. "Crowley, why? You're in so much danger coming here!"  
Crowley turned to face him, and saw clearly into Aziraphale's new face for the first time. His eyes are the colour of an Earthly lagoon.

"I came to see you because I was worried, of course!" He let go of his hand, suddenly shy. Aziraphale's eyes widened and he nearly dropped his bun. "Why would you worry about me? I'm...fine." He bit his lip. The simple action made Crowley FEEL things, things he would have to unpack later. "Come with me, Aziraphale, we have to talk about this properly." Crowley took his hand again, but not allowing himself to enjoy the feel of skin against skin, and lead Aziraphale towards his TARDIS.

Crowley opened the door with a snap of his fingers and hauled Aziraphale inside. He let go of Aziraphale's hand, closed the door and put the TARDIS out of phase, just to be sure. He turned to Aziraphale, who was looking around wistfully. "It's been such a long time, Crowley. I must say, even given the circumstances, I'm glad to see you, my dear." Crowley shivered at his words, and set that feeling aside to deal with later. Seeing Aziraphale, the cage around his lungs just pulled tighter. He'd expected it to release, but it just got worse.

"I had to see you, Aziraphale. I was...scared. Scared that you'd-"  
"Changed? Crowley, everyone changes, especially us. I see you're still the same though. At least, on the outside." Aziraphale said with a smile, perhaps a little sadly though. Crowley wanted to take his hand again. "I was scared that...you were hurting too." He said, looking away. There was a silence, broken when Aziraphale said, "Crowley, why are you hurting? What's the matter, my dear?"

Crowley's fists clenched, he wanted to run, run from the man he'd crossed the universe to see. Why had he even come? What was the point? Did he just expect Aziraphale to run away with him? Come back to Earth and live together as...as what? "I...I lost my best friend..." he whispered, staring down at his shoes. "I'm...oh. Well. You really...lost me, a long time ago, Crowley. A long time ago..."  
"I know, I know...but this made it...real."

He felt Aziraphale's hand on his. Let his fingers seek comfort, entwine with the other's. He took deep breaths, trying to break through the cage. "I never wanted to...say goodbye. Aziraphale...I've missed you. So much."  
"I've missed you too, Crowley. I really have." Aziraphale's other hand came up, clasped Crowley's. "It's been a long sixty-three years, hasn't it?" Crowley could hear the smile in Aziraphale's voice. He dared to look up, into those lagoon-coloured eyes. 

The scanner beeped, breaking into their moment of pure connection. Crowley hurried over to the scanner to see what the problem was. "It's the council, they've found us! They must have upgraded their scanning technology since last time I was here...I have to go!" He turned back to Aziraphale, looked at him for a second, and folded him into a quick hug that sent lightning down Crowley's spine. "And you have to get out of here!" He opened the TARDIS door. But Aziraphale stood stock still and shook his head. "No, Crowley. Not this time. I'm coming with you."

It was pointless to argue, and Crowley didn't want to argue. He gestured wildly, trying to express his rush of emotions in that single, exasperated movement. Then he pulled the lever to close the door again, and input the coordinates to Earth. They whizzed off, through Time and Space, and came to a stop on Crowley's favorite planet. They stood there, in silence, both shocked at what had happened. Aziraphale had run away from Gallifrey, and he was never going back.

"I...actually did it. I don't believe it." Aziraphale whispered, as if saying the words aloud would make it irreversible. Crowley turned to face him again. He saw that Aziraphale's face was downcast. He looked dejected. "How...why...why did you come with me?" Crowley asked, also in a whisper. Aziraphale was wringing his hands. "There is nothing for me on Gallifrey anymore. Nothing. And I have so missed yo- Earth...I have so missed Earth, and...you."

Crowley so badly wanted to take his hands, stop them fiddling, feel their fingers brush together. But he just leaned back against the console. "What about your friends? What about your job? Your books?"  
"The books are gone, and my friends have deserted me. You see...I was fired from my job, for gross negligence..." Aziraphale's voice choked. He started to tremble. Crowley snarled, "They blame YOU!? I thought it was arsonists! They can't possibly blame you, you LOVED that place!"

"At least...you, believe in me, my dear." Aziraphale gave a weak smile. Crowley sighed deeply. "Of course I believe you. You're the least likely person I know to neglect books."  
"Thank you, Crowley. Thank you..." Crowley just stared at Aziraphale's hands, watching them twist and turn in anxiety. Fire. What had that done to Aziraphale's mind? What had that done to his soul? To lose the things he loved best? "...You can start a new library. Here, I'll make a room especially for it. You know I don't read, but I want you to have it. We can gather books from all over the universe, if you'd like."

Aziraphale's arms clamped down around Crowley's shoulders and held on tightly. His head burrowed into Crowley's neck. Crowley wrapped his own arms around Aziraphale's waist and just held him as the other man broke down. He was weeping, weeping for his lost books, weeping for his lost home, weeping for his lost life. Crowley rubbed his back, soothed him with shushes and whispered words of comfort. Even as he did this, he felt the cage around his lungs expand, easing up. He could breathe, now. He breathed in the scent of Aziraphale's colonge.

Why did it feel so good to hold someone who was crying? His tears were making Crowley's jacket messy. He didn't really care, though, because it was Aziraphale doing it. He could ruin Crowley's entire wardrobe and he'd still lo-  
Love him. Yes, love him. That was it. That was this feeling in his chest, making it hard to breathe when they were apart. Why had it taken him THIS long to realise? He was utterly, hopelessly, completely in love with Aziraphale.

The years apart had done nothing to lessen this feeling, this connection. Even dying couldn't stop it. He was still Aziraphale, his Aziraphale. Crowley tightned his hold, and nuzzled his snowy curls, feeling a bliss he had never imagined. Aziraphale was finally his to keep, to selfishly guard from the outside world. Away from obligations, away from society, away from Gallifrey and the Council. They could stay here, on Earth, stay here in the TARDIS, or go anywhere they wanted, because home was them. Home was them, together, at last.

Finally, they broke apart. Aziraphale took a handkerchief from his sleeve and blew his nose loudly. He rubbed his eyes and cheeks clean. Crowley wanted to do it for him, but he held back the urge. He smiled softly. "Did that help?"  
"Yes, a little..." Aziraphale sniffed. He smiled back, and laughed weakly. "I'm a rebel now, aren't I?"  
"You certainly are. And rebels don't dress like Time Lords. I still have your suit. And your room..."  
"You had this planned from the beginning, you foul tempter you!"  
"That's right, Aziraphale. All part of my terrible scheme."

And they laughed, until Aziraphale cried again, and Crowley held him close until he calmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't mind me 'killing off' a character kind of not really


	4. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The culmination

Life on Earth was good to them. Crowley had set himself up with investments so that he had a steady supply of money, enough for books and clothes and meals. And frivolous items. He'd bring home little presents for Aziraphale. A few pastries, a box of chocolates. Flowers to brighten up Aziraphale's room. Aziraphale liked Earth flowers, they came in so many varieties. Crowley seemed to prefer greenery, and had several pot plants around the TARDIS.

They traveled a lot, in time. To buy first editions of books Aziraphale was interested in. Geoffrey Chaucer, the First Folio, Charles Dickens and Jonathan Swift. Even first editions of Harry Potter, which were apparently worth quite a lot. Aziraphale felt he shouldn't steep to reading adolescent fiction, but he had to admit, he did find the story quite enjoyable. And they would see classic plays, on opening night if they could get tickets. Diamond Lil, Pigmalion, Pirates of Penzance. 

Each morning they would walk in St. James Park, just like they used to. Aziraphale would tell Crowley about the latest book he was reading, Crowley would tell Aziraphale about the latest show he was 'binging', as he called it. Mostly they talked of trivial things, silly things. Like ducks, and whales, and religion. But one of those mornings, as they sat on a bench eating ice creams, Crowley had to ask. The most intimate of questions. If he asked this, maybe Aziraphale would catch on to the subtle hints Crowley had been laying down for days now.

"How did you die, the first time, I mean?" He didn't look at Aziraphale as he asked. "I-what, I mean, why would you ask me that??"  
"I...you don't HAVE to tell me." Crowley bit his lip. "I...well," Aziraphale began, quietly. "I was killed."  
"You were...what?"  
"I was killed. It was...I was on holiday, you see. I was trekking through Gin-Seng, and one of the killer cats..."

"WHY would you go THERE!?" Crowley exclaimed, turning to Aziraphale, seeing his crestfalled face. Aziraphale didn't look around at him, he just fiddled with his own hands. "I...wanted to see..."  
"But it's SO dangerous!"  
"So is being here, with you..." That made Crowley stop. He felt warm and cold at once. This idiot, he made Crowley FEEL so much, and he made Crowley angry with him, he made Crowley love him. He decided to change the subject.

"So you're saying you like danger?" Crowley grinned wickedly. Aziraphale let out a small huff of laughter. "Maybe I just like you, my dear." THAT made Crowley's stomach flip over. He chuckled nervously. "You know, you can ask me, how I died, if you want..." He peered at Aziraphale from behind his glasses, and bit his lip again, this time, flirtily. The other man laughed again. "Okay, then. How did you die?"  
"I was hit by a lorry."  
"Of course you were, you fool, you."

The conversation turned to something ridiculous - the concept of witches and how it related to Carrionites or something like that - and finished their ice creams. Aziraphale wondered, in the back of his mind, why Crowley had asked him the most private question that was possible for a Time Lord. Were they THAT close, suddenly? Or was he attempting to make them closer? Or perhaps, it was just Crowley being Crowley, and deliberately making Aziraphale uncomfortable. He couldn't decide which one it was, but he hoped it was the first option.

After they finished their ice creams, they walked back to the TARDIS, which was on the curb outside the park. Crowley's TARDIS, in its ridiculous shape as a car. Crowley snapped his fingers and the door opened, while Aziraphale worried that someone might notice. They slipped inside. "Where do you want to go next, Aziraphale?" He considered this for a moment, then said, "I really WOULD like to visit the British Museum."  
"Or we could go ice skat-"  
"NO."

The days turned to weeks, the weeks turned to months. The months eventually turned to years. Occassionally they would check the Gallifreyan news, and see the odd mention of the Case of the Missing Librarian. This always made Aziraphale feel guilty, so Crowley would distract him with gifts, and outings. Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to call them 'dates', there just wasn't THAT much of a connection between them. As much as he wanted it to be there, it just wasn't.

Aziraphale spent most of his time in his library. It wasn't grand like the Academy Library had been, but Aziraphale appreciated it. It was cozy, and he liked it cozy. There were armchairs and couches for him to sit on and read. These days he tended to avoid romance novels, they made his heart swell altogether too much. They reminded him of the little things Crowley would do for him. The gifts, the smiles, the soft words of comfort when he couldn't find a book he wanted.

He didn't even miss Gallifrey very often. Sometimes, when he was reminded of his home planet, he'd feel a little twang of guilt for running away. He'd miss his old library, miss his friends. He'd never been all that close to any of them, though. Not like with Crowley. Nothing like that. And whenever he missed his library, he'd buy a new book. He was particularly enjoying books of prophecy just lately. The ideas these people had were ever so amusing.

Today, Aziraphale just wanted to stay in and read, but Crowley was determined to go out. They compromised by staying in for the day, and going out for dinner at the Aqua Shard. The whole meal, Crowley was silent. He sat there, eating very slowly, and seemed to watch Aziraphale from behind his glasses. Aziraphale couldn't help but wonder what was going on in the other man's head. So he asked. Politely. "Crowley, my dear, what are you thinking of, may I ask?"  
"I'm thinking about you, of course."

Aziraphale didn't know how to answer that, so he didn't. After dinner they wandered over to the Tube station, Crowley leading the way. "Crowley, where are we going? Why aren't we going back to the TARDIS? I was halfway through-"  
"I thought it was time we checked out the Eye." Crowley said, absent-mindedly. "Oh," was all Aziraphale could say. What was different about today? A few times on the walk to the station, they accidentally bumped into each other. At least, Aziraphale thought it was accidental. Maybe Crowley was doing it on purpose?

Crowley had booked their tickets online, so they got a private compartment right away. Perfect, Aziraphale thought. Having to be alone with this fool, in one of the most romantically-charged parts of the city. He looked out over London, saw the lights reflecting on the Thames. He ignored Crowley. "Hey," came a small, shy voice. Aziraphale turned to see Crowley holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. They must have come out of his extra-dimensional pockets. "What's this for?"

"It's Valentine's Day, Aziraphale."  
"What does that mean?"  
"It's a day when humans...uh, I don't know how to explain it. They do romantic things for each other. Like give each other chocolates, or, you know, drink champagne." So THAT'S why Crowley was so keen to go out today. Aziraphale felt stupid. "I see...and, we are indulging in human customs?"  
"That's right." 

Crowley opened the bottle with a pop, and handed one glass to Aziraphale. Their fingers brushed together for a moment. He poured the golden liquid into both glasses, and set the bottle down on the floor; all while maintaining eye contact with Aziraphale. "I'm sure this isn't allowed, you know." Aziraphale blurted out, just wanting something to say. Crowley gave a devilish smile. "That just makes it more fun." He clinked their glasses together. "To us. Two time Lords on the run."  
"...To us."

They finished the bottle, and Crowley had it and the glasses tucked away in his pockets before they reached the ground. "Where should we go now?" He asked innocently. "There's a show on at the Globe. I believe it is A Comedy of Errors." Aziraphale suggested. And so they went to the show. Crowley fell asleep halfway through, and Aziraphale stopped watching the play so that he could watch Crowley instead. Innocent in his repose. Sweet in his stillness. Aziraphale wanted to take off his glasses and see his eyes moving beneath the lids. See the soft curl of eyelashes against cheeks. But he didn't.

"It's time to wake up, my dear. The show is over, we have to leave now." Aziraphale whispered as he gently shook Crowley's shoulder. "Mmmmwhat time ish it..?"  
"It's nearly eleven at night, dear. We should go home." Aziraphale offered a hand to help Crowley out of his seat. Crowley took it, and stood up. "I suppose you're right." They walked to the TARDIS, hand-in-hand. When Aziraphale noticed this, he couldn't bring himself to break the contact. It would just draw attention to it. And it was just so NICE.

Back in the TARDIS, they finally broke apart. "Uh, um..." Aziraphale began. Crowley smiled at him. "I thought tomorrow we could go to Persham, buy some plants." Aziraphale nodded too enthusiastically. "Yes, that sounds lovely. Um. So. Goodnight, and all that."  
"Happy Valentine's, Aziraphale." Crowley leaned in, placed his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders and pulled him close. 

Aziraphale screwed his eyes shut and tried not to breathe. To smell Crowley's scent would surely drive him mad. The embrace was too short, and too long at the same time. Crowley gently pushed him away and moved off towards his room. Aziraphale gulped, cleared his throat. "Happy Valentine's Day, Crowley..." He choked out. There was a small chuckle, and Crowley was gone. Probably preparing to sleep. Aziraphale went to his library, stumbling a little. Did Crowley...did he feel that same thing that Aziraphale felt? It couldn't be...

Persham was a charming place. That's what Aziraphale would call it, anyway. Crowley wandered around the garden centre, looking for new plants. Maybe he should buy Aziraphale some flowers. Yes, but what kind? Roses was a bit desperate, surely. What was that silly human thing again? Floriography? What about daffodils? Everlasting daisies? Both? Did Aziraphale know floriography? Crowley couldn't remember buying him a book about it, so he went with the daffodils - symbolising hope. He hid the daffodils in his pocket while they had lunch.

Back at the TARDIS, it was time to take the plunge. Crowley took out the flowers, held them behind his back as Aziraphale strolled around the console. "We could go to Mexico for dinner; I feel like quesa-"  
"Aziraphale. I ought to have given you these yesterday." Crowley thrust the flowers out in front of him. He watched as Aziraphale's face fell.

"What's the matter, Aziraphale?"  
"Oh, Crowley...daffodils? Really, my dear? Why must it be daffodils?" Aziraphale was shaking his head sadly. Crowley tensed up. "What? What did I do wrong? You...hate daffodils, don't you? Dammit, I should have gotten the daisies!"  
"No...I don't HATE daffodils, Crowley! It's just..." Aziraphale sighed heavily. "Do you know what they mean?"  
"What do you mean, 'what they mean'?"  
"Crowley, I have this book..." Oh no. Did he get the meaning wrong?

"This Victorian book, you see. About the language of flowers. Floriography. It says that daffodils...oh, never mind, you couldn't have known." Aziraphale took the bouquet and sniffed at it cheerfully. "You know, these bunches of flowers are called nosegays. The term has rather fallen out of fashion, however, because-"  
"Tell me what they mean, Aziraphale. You...looked so sad." Crowley wanted to take the flowers back. Turn back time, start over. "Why, my good fellow," Aziraphale began. "It means unrequited love."

Well, of course they did. And of course Crowley didn't know. What did he do now? Run away, leaving Aziraphale on Earth? Never seeing him again? "I, um, I thought they meant hope." He said, nervously staring at the damned flowers. Aziraphale's hands wrapped securely around the stems. "Well, they mean that, too."  
"So why did you- I mean...why did you say that they mean...what you said they mean?" Crowely stammered. Aziraphale shrugged. "I suppose I...wanted them to mean that?"

"You wanted them to mean...oh." He wanted them to mean that Crowley was in love with him. Aziraphale. Wanted Crowley to love him. "Well...if that's what you want..."  
"It is what I want, Crowley." Aziraphale set the flowers down on the console and crossed the room to stand in front of him. Crowley stared down at his shoes. "Um...so, I guess we should talk about this?" He murmured. Aziraphale laughed. "It's probably a good idea. So...I, er, I feel a certain way about you..."

Crowley's heart lept into his throat. His voice cracked as he spoke, like he was a damn teenager. "I, I mean, I feel a certain way about you, too, Aziraphale...I have for a long, long time."  
"Is that feeling...why you came to get me, take me away from Gallifrey?"  
"Yes, yes, that's why. That's why I brought you...in the first place. Why I, well, kidnapped you? I just didn't know, at the time. But I know now..." How he wanted to hold Aziraphale's fidgeting hands. Calm them, soothe them.

But it was Aziraphale who placed his hands on Crowley's. "That feeling, my dear, is why I came." His words were the gentlest whisper. Crowley felt Aziraphale's breath on his cheek. He was so close, so suddenly. Two days had changed it all. But it had been building up for decades. Centuries. Finally, he could admit this to Aziraphale. He could open that strangling cage and let his heart go free. Go straight into Aziraphale's possesion and never leave. He could find freedom, and find a home in Aziraphale's arms.

Crowley closed his eyes and took a deep breath, smelling Aziraphale's cologne. He'd changed it again. It was pleasant enough, but underneath it he still could smell Aziraphale. His Artron energy. "I want you to know...NEED you to know, how I've felt, all this time. My Aziraphale...I..."  
"Yes, Crowley. YOURS. Now, always. In all my lifetimes. Tell me...will you, um, love me, in your next life?"  
"YES." He meant it. He could feel it. Down deep in the centre of his being. It was true. One of those things that carried over from face to face. He would always be someone who loved Aziraphale.

"And I, for you. Crowley. My dearest. Throughout all my lives, this will never change." Aziraphale was so close now. So close that Crowley could almost taste...  
"I want to say it. Aziraphale, I love you..."  
"I love you, Crowley." And with that, all the distance between them was gone. Their lips met, with a spark of blue electricity. Their energies combining into one, cosmic force. It was warm, and it was close. The fabric of their clothes rustling as they touched, the feel of hair against hair. It was better than Crowley had ever imagnined, and he had imagined quite a lot.

They broke apart, and just looked into each other's eyes. Crowley was never going to get used to those blue eyes. He took off his glasses. Aziraphale BEAMED. "You have the most beautiful face, Crowley. You shouldn't hide it from me ever again."  
"I won't, angel. I won't."  
"Angel? Like...one of those...floaty things?"  
"Angels are...ethereal. Like you. You're my angel." They kissed again, softer and deeper this time. Warmer. Approaching heat.

Aziraphale's arms came up, around Crowley's waist. He pressed close. "I want to try something, Crowley. Come with me. Be with me. Stay with me."  
"Always. What do you want to try?"  
"Something that, I've never done before." Aziraphale grinned up at him. Crowley grinned back, licking his teeth. "Me neither. Let's get started right now!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can probably tell, I didn't know how to end this. I just love writing about these idiots so much! I'd love to start taking requests, if anyone wants to give me any.


End file.
